I want a house with a little land where I can grow things
Tomatoes, apples, basil, cilantro.
And maybe a chicken or two,
So that I can gather eggs for breakfast after making coffee.
A small plot of vines,
Enough grapes for a barrel or two,
To share with a warm, silent evening
Maybe a wooden table, under the trees,
With lights strung between the canopy of stars.
A little dirt to muddy my hands,
To watch those seeds sprout to food.
A small house with a little land,
And maybe you to grow old with.